


When Nights are Crazy

by punk_rock_yuppie



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Cuddling, Dirty Talk, F/M, M/M, Masturbation, Openish Relationship, PWP, Phone Sex, Podfic Welcome, Voyeurism, porn without plot/plot what plot, pre-polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 09:42:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16447442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: Ryan seeks out Shane for comfort on an investigation, and finds something else entirely.





	When Nights are Crazy

**Author's Note:**

> this idea struck me after the s5 premiere and i finally finished it! some pre-poly fic with zero discussions of feelings cuz all i wanted to write was jerking off and Ryan peeping on Shane. lowkey dedicated to Bee and all the others in the discord who were very hyped for this little thing.
> 
> thanks to hannah for beta'ing!
> 
> enjoy!

This whole ‘sleeping in separate rooms’ business is _nonsense_.

Yes, it was Ryan’s idea. That does not stop it from being total, absolute nonsense. Ryan resolves to kick himself the next time he tries to suggest something like this.

He winces as an especially old floorboard creaks underfoot; he looks ahead, down the hall, to where the bedroom door is shut. Where Shane’s supposed to be sleeping. There’s no light bleeding under the crack at the floor and Ryan exhales shakily. He’s not actually sure which would be better: Shane being asleep, so Ryan can maintain perhaps some semblance of dignity, or Shane being awake, able to mercilessly mock Ryan while also comforting him.

Ryan bites the inside of his cheek and trudges on. It’s too late to turn back now, regardless of if Shane is awake or not. Ryan will take the mocking over being scared out of his wits.

By the time he’s within arm’s reach of the door, Ryan has realized two things:

One, the door is not actually shut all the way.

Two, he has made a terrible mistake.

He knows this, because while there’s no light coming from the bedroom there are _sounds_ —sounds like the rustling of a sleeping bag and the labor of heavy breathing and the slick noise of a hand wrapped around a cock.

Ryan nearly swallows his tongue as he stops in the hallway, the doorknob almost at his fingertips. He doesn’t look in quite yet, tells himself he won’t, even if he wants to.

“Sara,” Shane sighs, throaty and heavy. “ _Fuck_.” More rustling, and a dull thud, followed by a breathy laugh from Shane. “Just trying to get out of my sleeping bag. It’s hot as fuck in this stupid house.”

Ryan realizes then that Shane must be actually talking to Sara; he can’t hear her response, but he hears Shane laugh again before it dissolves into a moan.

“Yeah?” Shane says, and Ryan finds himself drawn closer to the door. He moves carefully and slowly until he can see through the inch of space between door and door jam. “You wet for me?”

Ryan lets out a shuddering and silent sigh.

“I know, babe,” Shane says, placating but desperate. Whatever Sara’s saying on the other end, Shane clearly agrees, clearly wants it just as much. “God, yeah, I’d fuck you right now if I could.”

Ryan bites his bottom and looks through the sliver of a view he has; his gaze lands on Shane. Shane, who’s sprawled out of his sleeping bag with his stupid, skinny ankle sweatpants tucked down under his sac. Shane, who’s stroking his stiff cock for the whole world to see and _oh fuck the cameras_. Ryan can’t see the camera tucked into the corner from here, but he really hopes Shane remembered to turn it off.

“Fuck,” Shane moans. It’s long and drawn out and Ryan watches, mesmerized, as Shane fucks into his fist. “You gotta come on the next haunt,” Shane gasps out, grinning. “Could fuck you in a ghoul house.”

Whatever Sara says makes Shane laugh and say, “Sorry, sorry.”

Ryan’s head is swimming. His dick is hard in his sweatpants. He wants to touch himself and he wants to turn tail and run back to his room and he wants to burst in because _really Shane, phone sex on a shoot?_

“Oh god, Sara, babe.” Shane tips his head back. Ryan wonders how Shane can think enough to talk and jerk off and hold his phone to his ear all at the same time—Ryan’s never been great at multitasking like that. “No, no, he can’t hear me,” Shane says as a full body shudder rolls through him. Ryan can see his toes curling in his socks.

Ryan wants to keen. He presses his palm against his dick and shivers. He ruts against his hand as if it’ll relieve the tension and not just drive him crazier.

“ _Ryan.”_

Ryan freezes. For a split second, he thinks he’s been caught. He looks at Shane, fully expecting disgust and shock and humiliation to meet him in Shane’s expression. His mouth runs dry at what he sees instead.

Shane’s eyes are closed and his mouth is open, letting out a string of gasps and soft moans. He’s thrusting into his fist and stroking in tandem and Ryan can just barely see the glint of precome at the tip of his cock.

“Sara, c’mon,” Shane mutters. “M’close.”

Ryan wishes he could hear what Sara’s saying because it makes Shane’s back bow suddenly and makes him hiss, “fuck, _yes_ , I want him.”

Ryan’s dick throbs again and he moans as quietly as he can manage.

“Gonna come,” Shane says, and Ryan scrambles to get a hand into his sweats, around his cock. He strokes himself to the same rhythm as Shane. Normally he’d close his eyes and let some fantasy play behind his eyelids but now he watches Shane, enraptured. “Yeah, yeah,” Shane gasps as his thrusts turn erratic.

Ryan shoves his other fist in his mouth to stifle his own moans, to stifle Shane’s name crawling up in his throat. He watches as Shane writhes on top of his sleeping bag and his thighs go tense.

“Sara,” Shane hiccups. “Fuck, yes, okay? I want him, wanna fuck Ryan.” Ryan, if not for biting on his knuckles, would’ve moaned. There’s the faintest buzz of Sara speaking and then Shane’s coming. It spills over his fingers and onto his stomach and he cries out, wrecked and soft, _“Ryan.”_

Ryan comes seconds after. He bites his hand hard enough to hurt as he comes into his hand, some of it spilling and staining his sweats. His hips jerk as he chases the last tendrils of his orgasm and lets out a breathy gasp.

“C’mon, let me hear you,” Shane murmurs. Ryan, in his daze, _almost_ thinks Shane is talking to him. “That’s it, Sara, come for me.”

And god it’s such a stupid line, such a corny thing to say, but Ryan’s cock gives a feeble twitch.

Shane hums, appreciative. He sighs and laughs quietly. “Ryan would kill me if he knew about this. Kind of a shame I had to turn off the cameras though, it’s sorta hot.” He snickers.

A beat as Sara speaks. Shane nods. “Yeah okay. Should be home late tomorrow.” Shane’s moving now. He wipes his hand on his joggers and cleans up his stomach with the hem of his shirt. He wriggles back into his sleeping back, nodding along with Sara as she presumably speaks.

“G’night,” Shane says, soft and sleepy. “Love you.” There’s a dull thud as he sets his phone aside.

Ryan sits back on his haunches, far too aware of the mess in his sweats. He could still go in, still seek out Shane for comfort but now—now it feels different. But the thought of going back to his room is kind of awful, too. Terror tightens around his heart in a vice grip and Ryan lets out a whimper.

“You can come in, Ry.”

Ryan stills.

“S’okay. You get spooked?”

Ryan pushes the bedroom door open and slips inside. He shifts to hold his pillow in front of his crotch. “Uh, yeah.” He clears his throat. “It’s creepy as fuck here.”

Shane shrugs. “A little warm,” he concedes. He pats the space beside him. “Throw down your sleeping bag, stay a while.”

Ryan does as told without protesting. He lays it out a foot away from Shane, just to be cautious, but then Shane reaches out and grabs the edge of it. Shane tugs Ryan’s sleeping bag closer and taps the crinkly material expectantly.

“Any day now. I’d like to get _some_ sleep.”

Ryan nods and hurries to get inside his sleeping bag, dropping his pillow onto the floor. He looks over at Shane, who’s laying on his back with his hands pillowed under his head.

“Sorry,” Ryan says. “For waking you.”

Shane hums. Not appreciative, like when he was talking to Sara. This is more amused. “We both know you didn’t wake me up.”

Ryan’s breathing freezes in his chest. “Shane.”

“We don’t have to talk about it right now.” Shane turns and smiles at him. He stretches out one arm, an invitation. Ryan shuffles closer until his knees bump against Shane, until he can tuck his face against Shane’s arm. “For now, I’ll keep you safe from the big bad ghosties.”

Ryan’s thoughts are racing. They’re going a mile a minute and he’s half hard all over again, but he’s finally starting to relax, too. Panic and fear don’t have ahold of his chest for the first time in hours. Ryan’s eyes flutter shut, even as he says, “Shane, I’m—?”

“Ryan, it’s fine.” Shane’s still grinning, something Ryan can see through his almost-closed eyes. “Told’ja, I’ll protect you.”

Ryan moves closer and hides his face against Shane’s shoulder.

“Shut up, Shane,” he says with a smile.


End file.
